


the comfortable spaces

by ivelostmyspectacles



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Canon Asexual Character, Established Relationship, Food Metaphors, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 13:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21320809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles
Summary: "If it’s something– if there’severanything, actually, not even just this– you don’t like, I need you to tell me, right?” Jon still looks a bit uncomfortable, so Martin shoves forward. “That way we can work our way around it, not make you work your waythroughit.”aka Jon hates kissing
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 97
Kudos: 798





	the comfortable spaces

The first time Jon kisses him, it's awkward.

Okay, _ yeah, _ Martin guesses that's to be expected given that it's their first kiss and all, but it's almost funny because it’s _ Jon. _ He’s seen him through all stages of being stuck up and put together and having absolutely fallen apart, but he’s still _ awkward _ with his lips pressed against Martin's.

Martin knows Jon possesses the _ ability _ to be awkward– God, he knows– but there’s still something so _ uncertain _in the way Jon moves (or doesn’t, considering) that makes Martin… almost want to laugh.

He doesn’t, because, well, he’s kissing _ Jon. _

It could be the most awkward thing in the universe and he’d still be _ happy. _ Because it’s Jon, because it’s him, because he’s… he’s daydreamed about this a lot since Jon had started working at the Institute as a researcher so long ago that nothing could make it any less than _ Jon is kissing me. _ Any less than fireworks in his head and nervous fluttering in his stomach, and he desperately wants to reach up and take Jon’s face in his hands but it’s their first kiss, and he thinks Jon would probably _ panic _ if Martin tried anything so bold–

He doesn’t, because he doesn’t want to ruin this. Even _ awkward, _ it’s almost perfect.

Jon, predictably, pulls back first. He’s still looking sheepish and there’s two bright splotches of pink at his cheeks. Martin marvels at that, at the fact that Jon’s blushing because of _ him, _and his stomach does flip-flops and he twists his sweaty hands, nervous and fluttering in turns.

“Um.” It’s the first word– sound– that comes out of Martin’s mouth. Then he has to laugh, because _ that _ isn’t useful by way of speech, and he licks his lips and thinks about tasting _ Jon _ there, which is ridiculous, because it had barely been a press of lips and nothing more but now the thought’s in his head, and oh God, what if Jon does it again sometime? What if this becomes a regular thing? What if he actually _ could _taste Jon on his lips? He fidgets harder, and beams down at him. “Jon, that was…” What did you even say after your first kiss? He fumbles a moment longer, and then reaches to squeeze Jon’s hand. “That was so good,” he says, a little breathless. “Thank you!”

He doesn’t know why he’s _ thanking him _ for kissing him– well, okay, no, he knows _ why _ he’s thanking him, but he doesn’t know why he’s thanking him _ out loud– _and Jon’s uncertainty fades enough for him to look slightly perplexed himself.

“I just mean,” Martin continues hurriedly, “I… I liked it. A lot. A lot a lot,” he says helpfully, sounding like he’s back in primary school and trying to feel out his first crush on a _ boy. _ God. “So… yeah.”

“So, it was… good?” Jon asks, slowly, like _ he’s _ feeling the word out on his tongue.

_ It was great, _ Martin wants to say, and he wants to take him in his arms and hold him and kiss him more but that’s greedy and Jon looks nervous enough as it is. _ Martin’s _ nervous enough as it is. So, he plays it calm, and cool, and simply says “yeah,” in reply, and hopes Jon _ understands. _ “I liked it a lot.”

Jon does seem to get it. At the very least, he _ smiles, _ the half quirk of his mouth that Martin’s gotten used to. The smile he prides in being able to get Jon to make, however he manages to stumble into it. It’s cute and awkward and stiff and _ good. _ And very distinctly Jon in the way that he smiles without really smiling at all, but it’s something at the tug of the corner of his lips, and the way his eyes light up in just a certain way.

Martin’s heart pounds a little harder, and he has to clasp his hands behind his back to just _ stop. fidgeting. _

“Good,” Jon says, softly. Then he nods, and he’s gone, going back to research or statements or whatever he’d been doing before he'd _ kissed Martin. _

Martin staggers back to brace a hand against his desk, and then raises his fingers to his lips. They’d… really done that. They’d really… had their first kiss. He traces his knuckles against the phantom feel of Jon’s mouth against his, and thinks he can’t _ wait _ to do it again.

  


The second time Jon kisses him, it's awkward. 

It's different this time, and they’re still so new to dating, and there's still something, something about the way Jon goes in so quick that it almost surprises Martin. He thinks it's what stymies Jon, too, his own spontaneity. Maybe that’s the reason he’s still tense as he kisses him, hands hovering uselessly at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

Martin reaches to take them, lacing their fingers together, holding Jon’s hands– Christ, they’re so small, and fragile, and burned and scarred, blunted fingernails and calluses on his fingertips, and Martin just wants to envelope them in his own; he _ loves _ holding Jon’s hands, these days, now that he’s allowed to.

Jon squeezes his hands back, a little, and his eyes are closed, Martin sees, when he dares to peek, so that’s good. Even if the kiss is still awkward, and Jon’s lips barely move against his. They’ll just never get anywhere if they don’t… practice, right?

So Martin dares to deepen the kiss, a little. He’s not going all out, he’s not using tongue or anything here, and he’d really like to kiss him _ hard, _ but he doesn’t. Because Jon’s so fragile, anyway, even if Jon wouldn’t admit that himself. Martin just… coaxes, a little, leaning into the kiss and holding tightly onto Jon’s hands.

When Jon’s lips part enough for Martin to feel his breath, he thinks he very nearly swoons, because it’s so _ intimate, _ and it’s _ Jon, _ and it’s all he’s ever dreamed for but long since stopped hoping for and… this is his. This is _ theirs. _

Jon’s flushed down to his throat when Martin pulls back. He looks a little disorientated, and his lips are still parted until his tongue flicks out to wet them again, and Martin tries not to track that movement, he _ really _ does, but his eyes are drawn to it and Jon goes even more red. He takes a step back from Martin’s doorstep, smoothing the lapels of his coat. “Er– I had a nice time, today, Martin.”

“Yeah… yeah.” Martin smiles, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Me, too. Thanks for going with me.”

“Yeah. I– ahem–” Jon fumbles for a moment longer, then nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow,” Martin agrees.

  


The third time Jon kisses him, Martin finally realizes it's more than just awkward.

It’s… difficult to explain, really. Yes, they’re still _ new, _ everything is still new, but they’ve been dating a bit, and they hold hands and cuddle and he’d even gotten Jon to go out to a fancy dinner with him, something he couldn’t _ really _ afford but had _ wanted _ and then been surprised when Jon had agreed fairly willingly. It had been _ good. _ Jon had fallen asleep at Martin’s, that night, half slumped over on the sofa. Tea at work was different, too; Martin letting his fingers linger at Jon’s when he handed the mug off. And Jon even looked softer when Martin brought him back research for their cases. Things were _ good. _ Things were really good.

So it’s difficult to explain, exactly, what’s… _ wrong. _ But it’s awkward, and there’s _ normal _ awkward, and maybe Martin doesn’t have Tim-level of experience with kissing, but something feels… not right, the third time Jon kisses Martin. It’s with creeping dread he realizes it’s the same feeling he’s been feeling over the course of… all of it.

He doesn't want to ask, but he pulls back to do it anyway. He has to. Has to.

“You're not enjoying this, are you?”

Jon freezes, and Martin feels his heart sink all the way past his stomach and down to his feet. It’s even worse because Jon goes _ guilty, _ looking a bit like how the dog Martin had smuggled into the Institute had looked after it had proceeded to knock over a gigantic stack of Jon’s paperwork. Like when Martin had frantically– gently– scolded it as he’d panicked to organize all the papers again, _ that’s _ how Jon looks just now and that’s… the dread blasts into internal panic, and Martin starts thinking of _ all _ the worst case scenarios at once.

Jon’s been humoring him. Jon doesn’t like this. Jon doesn’t like _ him. _ Jon’s been doing it to be nice, or maybe because he likes him as a friend, or– or anything asides the relationship Martin’s positive they’ve been happy in– but what if Jon _ hasn’t _ been happy? What if Jon’s been miserable this _ whole _ time?

“Jon?” he prompts hoarsely, pulling back a little further. “Talk to me…?”

“It’s not…” Jon does the worst thing he can right now: looks away. Martin goes cold. “It’s not _ that.” _

“Okay,” he agrees halfheartedly. He’s trying to urge him on even though he’s terrified of what he’s going to say. “So what is it?”

Jon doesn’t say anything. He just… struggles. And Martin can see it on his face and in his eyes and feels the way the tension curls tighter and tighter into Jon’s body, so taut it feels like Jon might shatter to pieces beneath him if he doesn’t find the way to describe… whatever he’s trying to.

God, Martin doesn’t want to help him deliver the inevitable, terrible news, but he _ hates _ sitting here watching Jon work himself into a frenzy over _ words _ and _ feelings. _

“Jon, if you– if this is about us–” _ of course it is, Martin– _ “we don’t– I–I– I mean, we can still be _ friends,” _ he stresses, and pretends it doesn’t hurt like hell. “We don’t have to– to _ date–” _

Jon’s eyes widen almost comically, would be comical if– if Martin didn’t think Jon was trying to break up with him– and he shakes his head. “No, I… I’ve– I enjoy… this, Martin, I do. It’s… not that, either.”

“Okay,” he says again, and this time, he’s apprehensive. “So… I need… more than that, here, Jon.”

“It’s not… this,” Jon says slowly. “It’s… this… relationship,” he defines carefully, “has been good. I’ve enjoyed spending time together. It’s just…”

“Just…”

Jon stops, and looks frustrated, and Martin doesn’t know if it’s at him or _ himself. _ Then he just gestures vaguely, a faint wave of his fingers to gesture from him to Martin, like it’s supposed to make sense when he gestures at his face and then away, doesn’t he understand Martin’s _ panicking _ right now and can't think–

– but wait. When he shoves away the panic, maybe it’s… maybe it’s not so hard. Face, lips… “Kissing?” he blurts, because _ now _ it makes sense. The tension from all the past weeks only seemed to crescendo when they _ kissed, _ and Martin had noticed but hadn’t _ really _ noticed, but now it’s _ obvious. _

Jon completely sags with relief, and then nods twice.

“You don’t like the kissing.”

“I… I’m _ sorry, _ Martin, I should have said–”

“No, no, no– that’s–” It’s just the _ kissing. _ Jesus. “It’s just the kissing?” he clarifies. “That’s what makes you feel uncomfy?”

“I…” Jon sighs. “Yes.”

Now Martin feels like he’s about to cry from relief, because it’s… just the kissing. It’s not– it’s not every worst case scenario come to life. Oh _ God, _ he is getting teary. “Jon, you should have said.”

“I _ know, _ I’m–”

“No, I don’t want apologies,” he interrupts. “I’m not– it’s, it’s definitely fine. It’s _ so _fine, Jon. I’m… I’m glad that’s all, actually,” he admits, with a tiny, rueful smile.

Jon looks at him, and then blinks rapidly. “Oh! God, Martin, I didn’t mean– I’m not– I’m not breaking up with you, or– or whatever the term is–”

“Yeah, I figured out you weren't– I–I just… panicked, a bit–”

“Christ, I’m making a mess of this,” Jon mutters beneath his breath, and folds his hands in his lap.

“No.” Martin rests his hands atop Jon’s. “No, I’m _ glad. _ I’m… I just wish, um, I wish you would have said sooner? So that you didn’t push through being uncomfortable. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I thought I'd get used to it,” Jon says, and something seizes, in a different way, in Martin's heart again. 

“Oh, Jon…”

He hadn’t been exactly… wrong, on all accounts. Jon _ had _ been just _ tolerating _ it, tolerating kissing because he… thought Martin wanted it? Needed it? That their relationship had to be built around it? He had to have been miserable, in his own way.

_ I thought I’d get used to it. _

No. That hurts like hell, but Martin takes a deep breath and steels himself because he has to say what he’s about to say and he needs Jon to understand him.

“I don’t want you to get used to it. Okay? If it’s something– if there’s _ ever _ anything, actually, not even just this– you don’t like, I need you to tell me, right?” Jon still looks a bit uncomfortable, so Martin shoves forward. “That way we can work our way around it, not make you work your way _ through _ it.”

“But you _ like _ it,” Jon says, and almost sounds faintly _ exasperated, _ like they’re talking about going out in the rain without an umbrella or something as equally dismissed.

“But you _ don’t,” _ Martin counters. He tries to stop and think, tries to put this into… easier words, make Jon understand. “Like… you like ham on pizza, but I’m not really keen on it? So I just take off the bit I don’t like and eat around it. Taking away an aspect of pizza isn’t _ ruining _ the pizza, right?”

“… hungry, then?”

“I–I– _ yeah, _ maybe, a bit,” Christ, now he wants pizza, though, “but I’m just trying to make a point and you know it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to…” It’s a barely perceptible face, but then Jon carefully moves forward with the metaphor Martin’s spun. “... you shouldn’t have to pluck off bits you don’t like when you could just enjoy the entire pizza instead.”

“Jon, I’m never _ not _ going to enjoy pizza,” Martin says seriously, and in that moment, they both just… sort of laugh. Martin puffs out a breath and forges ahead. “Listen, I’m just trying to say we can still have a relationship– if… if you still want–”

“I do,” Jon says, with a short bob of his head, and Martin’s cheeks warm again.

“O–Okay. We can still do that, without kissing. We can do the other stuff. Like the cuddling? And going out to eat, and holding hands, and stuff? If that’s okay, for you.”

“That’s… those are nice,” Jon murmurs. “I don’t mind those, provided you aren’t _ overly _ emotional whilst we’re out–”

“I can keep the PDA to an acceptable level,” Martin says, tone mocking even though he is serious and he knows Jon knows that, too. They’re _ both _ nervous in public, even if Martin does _ really _ enjoy holding Jon’s hand on the train. “But in private?”

“That’s…” Jon shrugs slightly. “That’s fine. I’d– yes, I’d like to continue on, same as usual,” he says, and manages to sound so stuffy and _ awkward _ but he’s still _ blushing _ to rival Martin that Martin can’t help but _ laugh, _just a little.

“We’ll carry on, then,” Martin says, and he tries not to sound too happy but he’s _ glad _ Jon’s talking about this. Agreeing about this. “Minus the kissing bit.”

“Minus the kissing bit,” Jon echoes, even if his voice is a little faint. Martin’ll get him there. He will. They’ll get there together.

So he settles in at Jon’s side again, and lets Jon ease back against his chest like they had been. This is _ good, _ and infinitely more _ comfortable. _ For the both of them this time. “Thank you, Jon.”

“I didn’t–” Jon sighs, very quietly, and then just… nods. “Yes, er– thank you. As well.”

Martin beams, buries his face in Jon’s hair to hide how _ happy _ he is even though he knows Jon knows that, too. And they stay like that, right up until–

“We should get delivery,” Jon says softly;

and Martin laughs. 

He’s always up for pizza.

**Author's Note:**

> Jon, who likes holding hands and cuddling, and being comfortable around Martin, going on 'dates' and making him tea and stuff, who... doesn't get kissing, doesn't LIKE kissing, doesn't find it at all pleasurable but thinks it's necessary/Martin wants it... let Martin squash those thoughts, and hold his hands even tighter
> 
> <strike>  
slightly unbetaed atm so bear with any weird typos ty  
</strike>  
  



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